To My Dearest Daughter
by jesusfreak7777777
Summary: Peter writes a letter... one shot


            Disclaimer:  I own nothing but the plot.  The references to Avalon come from Marion Zimmer Bradley's books.

Peter Pettigrew woke up and shuddered.  He knew that after today, he would hate Halloween above all other days.  For today was the day he would betray his best friends.  _How could I have ever sunk so low?_  He wondered.  He shook his head.  _I didn't sink anywhere.  They'd do the same in my position.  James would agree.  I know he would.  After all, he too has one._  

Peter smiled as he thought and swung his legs out of bed with one thought on his brain.  He padded softly to a little bed with high rails so that its occupant could not crawl out.  He looked lovingly at the little figure lying there.  She was still asleep, and probably would be for a couple hours yet.  She looked, not like either of parents, but like her grandmother.  The soft brown curls, the facial features.  She was an almost carbon copy of his mother, from what Pete could remember.  She had died even before he got his Hogwarts letter.  

But he could remember laughing brown eyes and her confident attitude.  He remembered that when she and his father would go out to parties, she would come in and tell him a story before they left.  And wonderful stories they were.  Stories about the homeland.  Eire.  Ireland as it was now called.  But all the stories were set when it was called Eire.  There were leprechauns and bards and although no kings, there were princes.  Many great and powerful princes who had the faith of their people.  

But most of all he loved the stories about Avalon.  His mother said she was descended from the second Lady of Avalon, Sianna.  Half-elf and half-human.  It was from her line that sprang many powerful wizards.  Arthur was a descendant of hers.  

And he remembered the night he had begged his mother not to go to the party.  Asked her to stay with him for it was his sixth birthday the next day.  She just laughed that laugh and assured him that she'd be there to wake him up the next morning like she always was.  Except she wasn't.  He waited all night for the quiet pops that announced his parents had returned.  He finally fell asleep at dawn.  

Peter was shaken awake by a man from the Ministry the next day.  His parents were dead.  Too intoxicated to Apparate, they had called a cab.  A cab that was hit by a drunk driver on a back road.  That was the day he began hating Muggles.  For what they did to his parents.  To him.  Since then he'd learned.  But the knowledge came too late, after he was already sealed to the Dark Lord.  

The girl's mother was beautiful too.  But she left them.  Left them to serve the Dark Lord.  Her daughter and her 'one true love'.  _You're_ leaving her too._  Whispered a nasty little voice in his head.  Another, more sensible voice came forward.  _No.  You're saving her life.  _Life as a Death Eater was dangerous.  Especially if the Death Eater had a daughter that was the apple of his eye and everyone who knew of her existence knew it.  _

Why did I add the 'everyone who knew of her existence bit'?  Easy.  Peter was a Death Eater, roped into it because he was so enthralled with his pretty wife.  Not a month after their daughter's birth, Lucius Malfoy, higher up on the Death Eater scale, had shown an interest in her.  She left Peter and her daughter and hadn't looked back.  She had already given birth to a little Malfoy.  No, he was much happier without Narcissa.  

But the girl!  Peter loved her to death, that's why not many knew of her existence.  As I've mentioned before, being a Death Eater was dangerous.  There were Aurors, like Peter's old gang, the Marauders, and of course the Master himself.  One was tortured or even killed if one failed the Dark Lord.  And Peter was prone to failure.  He was a rather inept wizard, but a definite asset to his Lord because he was an unregistered Animagus.  A rat to be exact.  Petey was perfect for spying.  

That's the third tangent I've wandered off on.  I need to get back on topic. 

 Because Peter was a Death Eater, and in danger of death any moment, his daughter was in danger.  If Peter screwed up too much, his Master might kill her.  For he would never kill Peter.  The reason has already been mentioned.  Only Narcissa had known about the girl.  And of course the Muggles who watched her while Peter was 'working'.  

But the Dark Lord found out.  And the Dark Lord wanted the Potters.  Pete had been friends with the Potters.  The Dark Lord makes it well known that he's after the Potters, and they are forced into hiding.  With Peter as their protector.  

Pete had refused.  He was, after all, a Gryffindor.  He had been ready to sacrifice his life for James and Lily and Harry when his Master showed him a pretty picture of his daughter in Malfoy's 'care'.  That damn bastard was using the Cruciatus!  On a one-year-old baby!  His wife's baby!  

Pete was left with a choice.  His daughter or his friends.  Ironically, he thought about what James would do in such a situation.  Well, he would have thought Remus first, but James was the only one who had started a family already.  At least to the others' knowledge.  Not even his childhood friends knew about his princess.  

He reckoned that James would have chosen his family.  After all, they were flesh and blood.  The boys were just the boys.  Sure they were close, because of Remus' lycanthropy and all, but they weren't like brothers or anything.  Okay, so maybe James and Sirius were that close, but Pete was still sure that James would choose his family over his friend.  More like Sirius would nobly sacrifice himself.  

Peter wished there was some way he could stop it all.  Go back in time to when they were still in school, playing pranks and making fun of Lily and James, the perfect couple.  Well, he did have a letter to write.  He wrote it easily.  It was to the Muggles who normally watched his daughter.  They were very nice, but unfortunately could not have children of their own.  He wrote to them explaining that he would not be returning that night.  He sealed the envelope, and the key to his house and Gringotts vault inside.  He charmed the note to appear in their mailbox that night, unless he spoke a password.  As he was writing the letter, an idea struck him so when he finished that letter, he dug out a very sharp and pointy knife.  He carefully pricked his finger and began writing.

_Prongs,_

_Run.  They got me._

_PWP_

Then he proceeded to crumple the paper up and leave random bloodstains all over it.  It looked to all the world like Pete had been forced to write this note in immense pain and under lock and key, although not constant supervision.  Pete thought for a moment about the best way to get it to him.  Not owl.  If he was captured, how would he get an owl?  

He whistled a short tune and a dark raven flew up to him.  How appropriate.  He muttered strange words under his breath to the black bird.  It allowed him to tie the short note to its leg, then soared silently out the window.  Pete sent up a silent prayer that it got to his friend in time.  His death was set for midnight.  

The girl in the bed started turning uneasily in her sleep.  Peter made it to her bedside in two strides.  He bent over the railing and stroked the little girl's frowning brow.  She instantly relaxed at her father's caress.  He watched her now peaceful sleep for a few minutes.  

Without warning, a dreadful pain shot up from his left forearm.  Peter clutched instinctively at it.  He quickly dressed in his Death Eater robes.  He grabbed his wand and cast a sleeping charm on his daughter so she would sleep until the muggles came for her.  He then disapparated to a small village exactly 36 miles east of Godric's Hollow.  The master always did it that way.  Called them in the morning, 36 miles east of the place they were going to attack.  

Pete had heard James say that Voldemort fancied himself as the Anti-Christ and 36 was some sort of evil number.  Pete didn't understand.  He didn't want to. 

Dammit!  What's with me and these tangents?  This story needs to be told.  _You need to know.  We won't say too much about the events of the day.  Not very important.  Voldemort tortured a few people and Peter hated him more and more as the day went on.  Morning became noon, noon became afternoon, afternoon was winding down into evening before Peter saw the raven fly by.  It cawed at him and flew on towards the Potter's.  Although doubting it could help, Peter sent a silent prayer heavenward that it got there in time to save his friends._

Lily Potter was singing her son to sleep when the bird flew into the window.  Lily couldn't help it, she laughed.  She had been worried for a moment that it was an owl for either her or her husband, James, but owls aren't that stupid to fly into a window and the very nature of the Fidelius Charm would not allow anyone but their Secret-Keeper and those who knew they were there to contact them.  Only Sirius, Dumbledore, and Peter knew where they were and none of them were stupid.  She ignored the bird, and when Harry was sleeping peacefully, his arms wrapped around a stuffed rat, she went downstairs to where her husband was waiting.

"Hello, my love," he greeted her.  She kissed him warmly in response.  He took her hand and led her to the living room.  They settled on the couch with a glass of champagne each.  By midnight, they had fallen asleep together, as they had so many times while in school.  Wrapped up in each other.  Surrounded by their love.  

They were awoken by a pounding on their door.  I'm not going to go into the details of their death.  I was not there, but I know how it played out.  It simply pains me too much to write about it.  I didn't mean to, really I didn't.  If I had known that that was how things were going to play out, I would never have joined him. 

 I just wish I could have protected you from this fate that was thrust upon you and I hope you find happiness.  Understand, with whatever happens, that I love you and I always will.  I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, your father. 

 I have enclosed your birth certificate and the papers giving the muggles custody of you.  They will take care of you and love you as I can only dream of loving you.  Perhaps we will meet someday, but I doubt it.  I may not even recognize you so do not be offended.  

I know I made some bad decisions in my life and I'm sorry for them.  I think the only good thing I ever did was love you.  I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused.  I don't expect to live much longer.  But if we should meet again, dear daughter, let me know it is you.  I just wish to see your face once more before I die.

With all my love,

                           Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew

It was two and a half weeks into their sixth year.  Breakfast.  Mail call.  An owl arrived for Hermione.  The owl was not familiar.  Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, preparing to tell Hermione not to open it, it might be hate mail.  But she had already opened it.  She read the first line and looked up.

"It's dated three months ago," she exclaimed, surprised.  Ron wrapped some toast in a napkin.

"It must be important then," Harry pointed out.  "Let's go somewhere where we can read it in private."  They went up to Harry and Ron's deserted dorm.  The three friends settled on Harry's bed (Ron's was really messy) and Hermione cleared her throat and began to read.

            "To my dearest daughter,

                        Peter Pettigrew woke up and shuddered.  He knew that after today, he would hate Halloween above all other days…

A/N That definitely was not how I was planning to end it.  And I know the second I post it I'll want to change something.  So I'm going to do it really fast so I can't change it.  Let me know what you think.


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